Playing the Wife
by Dystopic Entropy
Summary: Blair Waldorf can't get those three words out of her head. No, not the ones with only eight letters. Oneshot set during 2.15 Gone With the Will.


**Title:** Playing the Wife

**Author**: Dystopic Entropy

**Spoilers**: 2.16 "You've Got Yale"

**Soundtrack**: "Alguien Mas" by Belinda, "Bella Traicion" by Belinda, and "With Me" by Sum 41 (but of course).

**Summary**: Blair Waldorf can't get those three words out of her head...no, not the ones with only eight letters. ONESHOT set during 2.15 Gone With the Will.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own _Gossip Girl_. If I did, Blair and Chuck would be together, happily scheming to take over the Upper East Side.

**A/N**: Please leave reviews; they make me happy. Let me know what you think about the ending. That's just where I happened to get stuck, so I left it at that. Also, I recently came up with an idea for a companion piece (to be published as a separate fic), so look for that sometime in the next few weeks!

* * *

Blair's mind was on a loop not unlike that of a broken record. The surprise party she'd planned for Chuck had been a disaster.

The worst part wasn't about Chuck being drunk. Or stoned. Or whatever he'd been when she walked into the office.

Nor was it the the part about the two whores who were hanging off of Chuck when she'd walked in on him.

Nor, even, was it the part where one of the board members of Bass Industries had followed her into the office, only to witness Chuck in one of the most debauched states he'd ever been in during his seventeen worldly years.

No, it wasn't any of that.

It was not the part where Chuck had found a way to blame it all on her, although that was getting pretty darn close.

That had _hurt_ her, had _shocked_ her, had made her want to _cry_ at the indignance of facing such an unfounded accusation as a result of what had been one of the most _selfless_ things that she had ever done in her entire life.

No... it was the part where he had called her his wife.

Or, rather, if you thought about it from another point of view, he had said exactly the opposite.

And Blair Waldorf felt something that she had been feeling all too often since Chuck Bass had become an important part of her life: uncertainty.

~*~*~*~*~

Up until that fateful night before her seventeenth birthday, Blair Waldorf had been absolutely certain of three things:

One, she was, and would always be, the Queen B of the Upper East Side.

Two, she would attend Yale, her father's alma mater.

And three, she would marry her very own Prince Charming, Nate Archibald.

Now, over one year later, those certainties had pretty much been dashed to pieces.

While it was true that she still had a tenuous grip on her title of Queen B, Serena had certainly given her a run for it at the beginning of that school year.

Serena had also _almost_ dashed her hopes for admission to Yale. In spite of that, Blair had decided to take her chances by applying _only_ to Yale. Now she wasn't so sure that that had been such a bright idea.

And even before any of that, Serena had helped to ruin her chances at her fairytale ending with Nate.

Now, Blair's blonde ex-Prince Charming was mostly out of sight and out of mind, as far as she was concerned.

~*~*~*~*~

Instead, he had been replaced by someone who was everything that he wasn't.

Dark.

Twisted.

Broken.

Needy.

All in all, imperfect.

And yet...on most days, Blair could swear that Chuck was all she truly needed to make her feel happy, to make her feel completed.

~*~*~*~*~

The illusion that she had created around Nate was gone. In its place was a stark reality in which Blair spent every day contemplating her frustrating quasi-relationship with Chuck.

She wasn't his girlfriend.

He wasn't her boyfriend.

But they were Chuck and Blair.

Blair and Chuck.

And somehow, in Blair's mind, that meant that _Chuck had been right_: they were inevitable.

_That_ was why, when Chuck had told her to stop _playing the wife_, Blair had felt like she had just been socked in the gut.

Why Blair, who had suddenly felt a dire need to gasp for air, had needed to bite back the words which had been summoned from the bottom layers of her subconscious.

"But I _am_ your wife..." she had almost whispered.

Because, right then, Blair Waldorf knew what she wanted the most to be in her lifetime.

And, one second before that realization, she had been told that it wasn't wanted.

* * *

**Second A/N**: Not my original ending, but it works. If you have any ideas or suggestions, please let me know. I don't know if I want this to be a oneshot or not...


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